Ataash Varin Kata
by SgtGinger
Summary: A Qunari seeks out the Grey Wardens, and changes the world as we know . Frequent violence and cursing. Some scenes of torture. Rated M for a reason.
1. Arrival

**Author's Note: It's been a while since I've posted anything here. I do have to write this story at work, so updates might be a little infrequent. You have been warned. Also, I highly recommend using the Qunari dictionary on the Dragon Age wiki for help translating, as I will be using it quite often. All reviews are of course welcome. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, BioWare, EA, or any of the affiliated products, subsidiaries, or properties. All original content is my creation, and may not be used without explicit permission.**

Ataash Varin Kata

"In The End Lies Glory"

Chapter 1

A torrential rain fell from the dark sky, slicking the rocks and kelp strewn along the beach and turning the few scattered footpaths into death traps. A quick flash of lightning illuminated the surroundings, casting a harsh light on the crumbling ruins that clung to the mountains. Scattered debris and the falling rocks crashed down the cliff face, tumbling into the sea below, disguised by the waves that pounded the beach. All in all, Tal'Kas mused, this place the bas called the Storm Coast was simply a colder, harsher copy of Seheron. All it was missing was the rivers of blood flowing through the jungle, the harsh cries of the Fog Warriors striking down the innocent natives, and his fellow Arvaarad's looks of sickness and despair on their faces as they trudged back to their camps; the defeated looks on their faces as they were sent to the re-educators, the Ben-Hassrath, to be assigned among the common folk while their souls healed.

Memories of his time among the jungles, hunting Tal-Vashoth and watching over his saarebas charges haunted his waking hours and sleep equally, but the Qunari forced it from his mind, continuing his trek up the mountain side and wrapping his fur-lined cloak tighter around himself to ward off the cold. Climbing up the steep cliff, the wind buffeted Tal'Kas, forcing him to make stops every few hundred feet and dodge the occasional debris and outcroppings of rock. The blackened sky blocked out the sun and he could hear what sounded like wolves howling in the background, though it was hard to tell through rushing wind. Few enough wolves made their home among the jungles of Seheron, though he'd killed a fair few brought to the shores by Tervinter soldiers. Another blast of lightning lit up the sky, and Tal'Kas cast a nervous glance back at the ocean, scanning for any of the tell-tale signs of Aban-Ataashi, the giant sea snakes that would occasionally migrate south to the Waking Sea.

Nearly three hours later, Tal'Kas wearily trudged into a small cave opening, carefully packing away his supplies but leaving his weapons within close reach near the entrance. Standing taller than even most other Qunari, he was forced to duck his head maneuvering through the cave, small as it was, and cursed quietly when his horns, recently shorn off, scraped against the rough ceiling. Tal'Kas knew the search for dry wood would be fruitless, and wary of expending any more energy, he settled himself on the sheepskin bedroll he carried, sitting back on his knees and settling his weight as evenly as possible, and began the chants of the Qun to center his churning mind and spirit.

"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun."

"Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun."

"Ataash varin kata."

After a short time, his meditations eventually led him back down the dark path in his mind, recalling his departure from the Qun, and his mage charges. He'd argued with the Arishok, the head of the Qunari military, asking for permission to seek out the ones the bas called Grey Wardens.

 _"You wish to abandon your brothers in the Qun to fight this Blight with the Bas?"_

 _"_ _I do not feel this would abandon my duties to the Qun, Arishok. If anything, this will only serve to strengthen the Bas' view of us, seeing us help them fight this Blight."_

 _"_ _But in doing so, you would be weakening yourself to assist these pathetic dathrasi."_

 _"_ _What message would we send to them - that we care not if the world is swallowed by the dark ones?"_

 _"_ _If they cannot defend themselves they are unworthy of the Qun!" the Arishok had shouted at him, rising from his seat in the hall of the Antaam, glaring down at the Arvaarad standing before him. Though the Qun taught not to seek glory, and that everyone filled their roles, the Arishok could not deny to himself that this Arvaarad was among the best of his men, and would be a painful loss to the Qun._

 _"_ _Arishok, I do not feel any lessening of the Qun in my soul. I simply believe it would be a show of our mastery if we can join among those numbered as Grey Wardens - those who fight the Blight among the Bas. They are known as peerless warriors and great strategists, and is that mastery not what we all seek under the Qun?" Arvaarad seethed internally, seeking calm under the storm that was the Arishok. He knew another Beresaad unit was being formed to seek out answers about the Blight for the Arishok, and yet none of the Arvaarad had been chosen, despite the reports that the Ben-Hassrath scouts had brought back that indicated there might be some Saarebas among the dark ones - the Darkspawn. He truly did not seek glory, but mastery of combating magic was integral to his role in the Qun._

 _"_ _You seek to leave your charges - your Saarebas - to their own devices and leave your brothers to seek out warriors who you might not even find, all on some fruitless quest to improve your own mastery? You seem to be seeking nothing but your own glory, Arvaarad. I will not tolerate more of this talk. Report to the re-educators or leave these lands, Vashoth."_

Tal'Kas' head had snapped back at that indictment, and even now his mind reeled back from the implications of that day, nearly a year ago. To be called Vashoth among the his people was to be called not-Qunari, and to someone who had lived and breathed the Qun from the day of his birth - like all true Qunari - was worse than death. It meant the death of his Asala, of his very soul. Tal'Kas kept himself still, and slowed his breathing to a crawl. Breathe in, and out. Repeat. Feel the Qun flowing through you. The very words the Ben-Hassrath had spoken to him, trying to calm his mind after the argument with the Arishok. He had faithfully reported to the re-educators, and submitted himself to their guidance in an attempt to 'fix' whatever it was the Arishok supposedly saw in him that threatened the Qun so much. Breathe in, and out. In and out.

In the end, the Ben-Hassrath could not help him. They were kind when they came to him that day, meditating in his quarters. The one he called Asha was a priestess, one of those who taught the children and found their places among the Qun. She was ... she had been his. Under the Qun, picking a mate for life 'twas a rare thing. Oh, they had mated before, many a time, laying under the stars, but Asha ... she was different than the others. Not so concerned with propriety and adhering to every strict teaching of the Qun was dangerous, but she had been with him as a child, growing up together and learning their places. She had been his chosen mate, a reflection of his very soul, in a way kinder than he had ever thought possible. They had bonded - or married, as the Bas called it - several years before and had stayed together far longer than most bonded couples ever managed, a full eight years.

In those eight years, she had graced his every waking day with love and compassion. She had lightened their lives beyond anything he'd believed, even giving birth to their son, Taashath. According to the Qun, Asha would never know her son, beyond the birthing. Of course, Tal'Kas had kept her aware of everything that happened to him, as fathers were allowed more access to their children than mothers. Truthfully, he'd never agreed with that part of the Qun, and simply hadn't cared whether or not it was violating Qunari philosophy. Her smile had lit up the room whenever he subtly pointed out their son in her class, and showed her how well he was doing.

Asha had come to him that night, telling him what she believed was not a failing of his spirit, but simply a desire to find a better way to take care of his charges. Tal'Kas had spoken at great length with her throughout the years about the treatment of the Saarebas. He'd always felt that the Qun was perhaps too harsh on those who were simply born with a gift they could not have asked for, yet he knew they could be dangerous, as much as any warrior with a blade could be. She'd shared his feelings, and spoke long into the night about her conviction that he was doing the right thing. That had been a trying moment for both - they knew what they were saying was far divergent from their teachings, but they could no longer face the same life. They'd shared one last night of passion, then he had left. He remembered fondly gazing on her sleeping form in the bed that morning, kissing her forehead and plucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, than leaving for good. He'd left her a letter, remunerating those things they'd spoken of the night before, his reasons for leaving, and his love for her. It was the least he could do for her, his mate.

That had been nearly eight months ago.

He could still feel the teachings and spirit of the Qun flow through him, though it was becoming harder and harder by the day. That which guided his people in their lives, and provided structure and purpose, was slipping away from his mind, and the harder he grasped, the more it darkened his mind. Tal'Kas had never truly felt fear in his mind before his departure from the Qun and its fulfilling tenants. He'd always had a place in the Qun, and knew what he was meant for. But now … he couldn't find that same certainty. Now, sheltered in this small, damp cave, he felt the rain lightly misting his face, the sea air wafting in and out, and the small candle he'd lit earlier wavering, but he could feel no connection to his old life anymore.

Even his memories of Asha and Taashath were slowly beginning to fade, much as he tried to keep them. Her silky raven hair, the curve of her horns, the beautiful amethyst eyes that had always watched with amusement when he interacted with the small children and Vidadtharri when he visited her teaching center; all were beginning to fade into the background. The turbulence that existed in his mind was a cacophony of noise, pulling him every which way and threatening to consume him. This was the basis of his struggle: to find the Qun within himself, continue his search for the Grey Wardens, and absolve his soul of these doubts.

A sudden gust of wind through the cave and extinguished the candle, carrying with it a fine mist that nonetheless drenched Tal'Kas. Of greater concern to him at the moment, however, were the howls he heard. Guttural, rage-filled cries that echoed throughout the mountains. Tal'Kas had no idea what these creatures were, but he could tell they were hunting. Their sounds chilled him to the bone. He could tell with certainty that it wasn't a pack of wolves, and it absolutely wasn't a dragon. Perhaps a bear was stalking him? No … it was too high pitched for a bear, and he couldn't remember the last time outside of Seheron he'd seen two or more bears hunting together. Ignoring his stiff muscles, Tal'Kas carefully packed up his bedroll and grabbed his weapons - a short spear, four daggers, and his specially crafted, detachable dual bladed staff. Scattering dirt over the camp to erase any signs of inhabitance, Tal'Kas secured the fur-collared mantle around his neck to ward out the cold, and emerged from the cramped cave.

While his primary duty in the Qun had been to watch over and care for the Saarebas, he had also joined his brothers and sisters in the Beresaad to track and hunt those who'd left the Qun: the Tal-Vashoth. He'd excelled in tracking down the enemies of his people, and reveled in the chance to do so again. Hunting these … things, though, was a different story. Tal'Kas didn't even need to bother looking for signs of passage; these creatures weren't exactly subtle. Crushed leaves and branches littered their wake, and the smells that assaulted his senses were easy to follow, though he regretted every second of it, and the small meal he'd managed to eat earlier was threatening to expel itself back the way it came. Rancid piles of filth and feces scattered the path, and the forest was alive with the sounds of these monsters. _Apparently these … things … love to make themselves known. Mixed tracks, but no animal prints. A few sword marks here and there._ These were simple creatures, apparently, and they seemed to have no desire to hide where their intent, though Tal'Kas could not discern what that was. No path he had followed moved in any semblance of a logical path. They had looped back on themselves twice, but then moved from covered forests to rocky terrain and back to an open field with no cover. There was simply no evidence of any tactical thought in these monsters. Tal'Kas followed the path, grinning to himself, enjoying the chase, though not as much as he would have back on Seheron chasing the Tal-Vashoth.

After nearly an hour of following the tracks, Tal'Kas found himself in a small glade of trees atop a cliff, several hundred feet above the churning ocean, sharp rocks protruding from the water below. Tal'Kas cursed to himself quietly, running over the last hour in his head to find where he'd erred, when a deep and pervasive sense of quiet invaded the air around him. He almost felt rather than heard the trees shake as the footfalls - and smell - of these monsters he'd been chasing entered the glade. From the tracks he'd seen earlier, and the guttural, growling sounds he now heard, Tal'Kas placed their number at six. Turning around, his senses were assaulted by the sight of six … _things._ He simply couldn't describe them any other way. They were approximately human sized, though they lacked any semblance of hair, and were covered in sores and patchy skin. Matching this was their armor, which seemed nothing more than salvaged, striped-down bits of leather and plate they had found on corpses. Indeed, the black sludge that seemed to ooze from some wounds and the blood stains on their weapons indicated they had in fact 'borrowed' the equipment from previous victims. It made Tal'Kas sick. He understood the bas didn't have the same reverence for their weapons, but to him … it was another part of his soul, just like Asha and Taashath were, and the sheer disrespect for a living being's soul was disturbing.

All in all, it gave him all the more reason to kill these monsters.

The leader, dressed in slightly better plate armor than the others and sporting a helm, took the greatsword off its' back and grinned as its comrades loosed their weapons as well. Tal'Kas felt the familiar coiling of his muscles getting ready to fight. He knew trying to engage in honorable combat was lost on these monsters, and giving them any advantage of time was sure to result in his premature death. He wasted no time and threw his spear, side-handed, into the face of creature furthest to the left, sinking it deep into its chest, killing it immediately. To his far right, Tal'Kas barely saw the arrow flashing from the creatures' bow in time, and snapped a gauntleted fist up in time to catch the projectile. Reversing the arrows' momentum, he slammed it into the foot of the archer while he ducked a blow from another, spinning his legs beneath the beast and tripping it, rolling over and using a quick motion of his hands to snap the fiends neck.

Rolling out of the way and on to his feet, Tal'Kas barely had time to bring his hand up in time and catch the blade of a third creature in its inglorious attempt to slice his head from his shoulders. The blade pierced through his leather-backed gloves, and into his hand. Ignoring the pain, Tal'Kas slammed his foot into its chest, kicking it hard enough to throw the monster off the cliff, bringing no small satisfaction to himself as he heard the gurgling cries end abruptly upon introduction to the sharp rocks at the bottom. Looking back at the remaining three, he was almost surprised at the apparent lack of concern over the deaths of their fellow … almost. He could feel the wound on his hand bleeding profusely, ignoring the common amount of resistance most Qunari had. A quick glance proved worrying, as he could see small bits of black sludge clinging to the wound. Taking stock of the situation, Tal'Kas knew he was running out of time. He could feel himself growing tired, and the wound in his hand rapidly gushing blood.

Resolving himself to end this quickly, Tal'Kas reached back and gripped his staff blade. Taking a quick second, even in these final moments, he had to marvel at the construction and implementation of the design his mate had come up with years ago. Essentially, it was a simple quarterstaff, with a shorter staff, and holding two double-edged sword blades on each end. The genius of it was that it was not simply a dual-bladed sword, but could be separated at the middle of the staff, turning it into two deadly swords in their own right, each blade with a serrated section of the blade on the bottom. Grinning to himself, he knew he could finish this … if only he didn't bleed out first.

The leader, seeing Tal'Kas quickly dispatch the others, roared a challenge, spittle flying from its mouth as it dashed forward and swung its axe down, aiming for the quick kill. Tal'Kas stepped to the side, planting a fist firmly in its stomach, and spinning around to quickly bash the staff into the heads of two other creatures, completing his spin and ducking so both blades slashed right through their armor and killing them. The leader had recovered quickly, and was coming back for him. This one was larger than the others, and had quite a bit more muscle on it. Tal'Kas quickly separated the two blades, parrying another blow of its axe and sweeping it to the side, but the monster retaliated by rushing him and slamming its own body into his, tipping him precariously close to the edge of the cliff. Digging his heels into the ground, Tal'Kas could feel the ground starting to give under him, and rocks careening off the cliff and into the ocean below.

 _This one is much stronger than the others … need to … finish this quickly!_ His feet pushing closer and closer to the edge, Tal'Kas saw images of Asha and Taashath flash through his mind, remembering his son's birth; his wife's happiness in the fleeting moments she held him close; seeing the precious little baby look at both of them almost in understanding. He saw his wife's joy whenever he entered the teaching rooms, and subtly pointed out their son, knowing he was one of the best students. His own pride in hearing his son was being considered for early entrance into the Beresaad, a seeing Taashath handle his first sword. Even watching - with both pride and extreme caution - when one of his Saarebas charges learned some new form of magic.

All these memories filled his mind, emboldening his spirit and his body.

His muscles coiled and surged in response to his need.

Tal'Kas raised his head, feeling his rage boil up and filling him with power.

And finally, with a surge of strength, Tal'Kas shoved the monster back, feet digging into the cliffside as he tackled it to the ground and unleashed a furry of blows with his fists. Thrashing the beast until its weapon dropped to the ground, useless now against his assault, he raised his staff, separated it, and using every ounce of energy left in him, slammed his blades into the monsters eyes. Black blood and bile spurted from its mouth, coating his armor, its screams slowly turning in choked gurgles. It continued thrashing for a minute before the movement finally stopped. Rolling off the fiend and on to his back, Tal'Kas breathed heavily, feeling his muscles screaming in all his effort. Ever so slowly, he could feel his strength draining, as his eyes began to close, no matter how hard he fought to stay awake.

 _No, this can't be the end … it can't. I must survive. Must … survive … for Asha and Taashath._

Summoning the last of his energy, Tal'Kas barely managed to roll over on to his stomach. In the brief time he'd been unconscious, his ears had been ringing, so he'd missed the sounds of footsteps entering the glade. As he rolled over, his sight landed on two pairs of boots approaching rapidly. In his delirious state, all he saw was another threat, and tried to rise up to attack, but there was simply no energy left in him. Slumping back to the ground, he briefly heard someone shout for medical attention, and another graveled voice pause for a second.

"Well, well, whatever do we have here?"


	2. Hold

***Author's Note:** There were a few issues I wanted to address with the last chapter. I know in the fight with the darkspawn, he separated the sword twice. **I meant to put in there that he put the sword back together again.** Also, I forgot to mention the time this first chapter takes place, which is kind of key point. **So, officially, Tal'Kas was exiled from the Qun in 9:29. He travelled to Ferelden over an 8 month period, so he arrives on the Storm Coast 4 months prior to the beginning of Origins.** Anyways, we're now continuing the journey, so enjoy! By the way, his horns are **not completely gone, simply cut shorter**. And yes, I will be addressing the "marriage" issue between him and Asha not being Qun sanctioned as well.

 ***Disclaimer:** **I do not own Dragon Age, BioWare, EA, or any of the affiliated products, services, or subsidiaries. Any original content is the property of the author, and cannot be used without explicit permission.**

Ataash Varin Kata

"In The End Lies Glory"

Chapter 2

 _Two months… two months I've been here. I must escape …. have to find the Wardens._ These thoughts were all that Tal'Kas had to comfort him, to sustain his strength while stuck in this pathetic dungeon. The men who'd approached him after his fight with the beasts had helped him to a nearby camp and patched him up, then promptly knocked him out. He'd awoken to find himself chained to a wall in this musty, run down dungeon. His shackles were anchored to the wall, and though he'd tried to break them down, his strength had been fading every day thanks to the wound he'd received. Tal'Kas looked at his right hand, and could see even now the black tendrils of his wound had begun to spread, infecting him slowly but surely. He wasn't sure what it was, but it appeared as though the bile from the beasts was sickening to even Qunari. _Maybe I should have stayed in Seheron after all … clearly this was a mistake to seek the Wardens out._ These thoughts had been circling in his head ever since he'd been captured and moved here; the doubt had been chewing him away the whole time, and even his memories of Asha and Taashath - what were left of them - were losing the ability to sustain his strength.

In the last two months, he'd had broken glass shoved in his mouth, metal bands branded on his arms, been flogged, submerged in dirty water, starved, deprived of any light and noise, cut with daggers and had hot coals applied to his feet for hours. Overall, Tal'Kas had to laugh. These attempts at torture by his bas captors were inspired, but fruitless. They had no idea how to truly torture someone of his kind, and it showed in their frustration when he refused to break, or to speak of his purpose here. He supposed perhaps they thought him a Qunari spy … laughable as it was, clearly they had never met a member of the Ben-Hassrath before. As he was musing over these thoughts in his head, the door to his prison slammed open, and Tal'Kas wearily raised his head, awaiting some new form of torture. _These pathetic dathrasi have nothing on the Ben-Hassrath. They don't even know how to properly hurt a Qunari._ Tal'Kas watched as the man who walked in stepped down the stairs, and stood a small distance from him. _Just far enough that I can't reach him, and he knows it._ The man was dressed in finer clothes than the typical torturers that entertained him. Short-cropped hair and a broken, slightly hooked nose competed with the obvious sneer upon his face, overall giving Tal'Kas the impression that this was the lord of this keep. He carried the sword staff Asha had given him in his left hand, and Tal'Kas could clearly see the outline of at least two hidden daggers on him, one hidden behind his belt, and one inside the right boot.

"In case you were wondering, I am Arl Rendon Howe. My men have told me you refuse to speak. No matter, they'll break you in the end. But perhaps I can help them along the way …" Tal'Kas saw the sneer on his face widen into a sickening smile, his teeth stained with what looked like a chewing mixture of deathroot and spindleweed that was common among some Tal-Vashoth he'd hunted. And that was the moment Tal'Kas began to understand just exactly who he was dealing with, as the man raised his sword staff, and slammed it quickly down the edge of the anvil that had been used to make the bands now attached to his arms, and the middle of the staff cracked in half, also leaving cracks up and down the blades of the sword. Tal'Kas' heart stopped beating for a few seconds, as the enormity of the act caught up with him, and watched as the man walked out of the dungeon laughing. _No, no, no … the last piece of Asha I have left. How did he know what that could mean to a Qunari?_ As the despair began to raise its ugly head again, Tal'Kas barely registered the pain of another sword stabbing him in the side, and hot coals once again being applied to the wounds. This Howe was dangerous indeed, whether he knew of the significance of a Qunari's weapon or not. While Arvaarad's didn't hold their weapons to the same level of importance as those in the Beresaad, this had been one forged for him specifically, and designed by his mate. To him, it was the only piece left of his essence, his family, his very soul; now it lay broken and shattered on the ground, much like his goal of finding the Wardens.

Staring morosely at the ground, Tal'Kas looked over his body and began to see the signs of torture taking its' toll. His normally golden skin had turn ashen and gray, and was covered in soot and blood. The black tendrils of the infection in his hand had spread up half his arm. He saw - and felt - the numerous scars and open wounds all over his chest, back and arms. Whenever he opened his mouth, he could still feel the scar tissue inside, and an annoying piece of glass that had yet to escape from his mouth. The blood from numerous wounds caked his skin, and had begun to bubble over in some places where the hot coals had been applied.

As the torturers once again lost patience in his refusal to speak, they finally picked up the pieces of his sword and threw them in the coal; he watched them melt slowly over the next few hours, his hope along with it. He could feel the despair and doubt set in once again, dragging his spirit down the proverbial drain. Deep in bones, Tal'Kas knew he wouldn't escape this pit, and would rot away in this dungeon. It was only then, as the bas were walking out of the dungeon, that he collected his senses enough to overhear the last bits of their conversation.

"I guess we'll just have to leave the rotten bastard here, if we're going to be moving on the Highever job soon."

"I still can't believe Howe's going with that plan .. seems idiotic to me."

"Better not let him overhear you saying that! You know what happened to the last guy."

"Oh please! His head is stuck so far up his ass he couldn't hear a dwarf banging on a keg."

"I'd be more worried about the rumors we've been hearing out of the south. Apparently the Grey Wardens are looking for recruits. I even heard one of them was traveling near Highever anyways, probably wants to recruit that Cousland boy …."

Tal'Kas' head snapped up at hearing that last part. _So this Howe plans on diverting his men to attack someone else? And the Wardens might be in the area recruiting … interesting. Maybe I can use this to my advantage. All I need to do is find a way out of here and figure out where the fuck this bas place called Highever is._ And with that thought, his depression began to fade, bit by bit, until he could no longer feel the despair eating away at him. His energy began to return, the pain of his wounds retreating as he could finally feel hope again. _Perhaps I wasn't mistaken after all._


End file.
